Pride & Pedigree
by EirotiC
Summary: Highschool was hard enough with just Dave Strider to deal with. But then John Egbert has to come along as well. And Karkat doesn't know how to deal. DaveKatJohn. OT3.


Aka In which Karkat's heart throbs for the new heartthrob in school ,John, who happens to be besties with the absolutely bane of his already quite miserable existence, Dave, who also happens to attract him very much in an 'I really want to rip out your intestines and choke you with them, but I also want to have your tongue in my mouth and your body grinding on my body' kind of way; the shit hits the fan when for stupid reasons like mini explosions and other such nonsense causes them all to share a dorm quadrant, and Sollux is a useless shit who gives absolutely nonsensical advice like 'Just ambush him in the shower with a bj, KK', which is total hoofbeast shit because Karkat can't even decide which him he would even want to ambush (because he wants them both).

Aka the stupidest JohnKatDave to ever be written. I'm so gomen for everything.

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A/N: Uh, this is kind of written with the intent of not dealing with the game at all really. An AU in which trolls and humans are now co-existing peacefully, but have decided to start integrating cultures at an earlier age by building the first school for both trolls and humans alike. They are not the first students at the school, but it is their first year there. So technically they're between 16 and 17-ish in the story. So, kinda sorta underage. Age o' consent is 16 in my country so, yeah. Uh, POV will switch between Karkat, Dave, and John at times, but fic is mostly in Karkat's POV. Since he's hilarious to write. Also, I have no BETA so, if you see grammatical errors, point 'em out or hit me up with an offer. I have no patience for proofreading.  
Anywho, enough chitchat, enjoy~.

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It had been a perfectly normal morning really, for once nothing setting you off in righteous indignation, and you'd managed to enjoy your first cup of coffee in peace in the quad room before class. Everyone else was content to stay in their own miserable early morning bubbles –which really should have been your first clue to the absolute misery that was going to be the rest of your day. The temperature was mild, since autumn was finally kicking in full gear, and the crisp breeze was actually nice as it ruffled through your already mussed locks, dancing about your disgracefully nubby horns playfully. You were standing by the window, casually sipping on your pumpkin spice chai latte, a group of your fri—acquaintances sitting in plump chintz chairs scattered in a haphazard circle.

You don't really consider them friends, though you all hang out every day. You're too abrasive for that, too closed off, though you know that you all care for each other one way or another. After all, you're all trolls participating in this stupid troll-human allegiance plan, living in dorms and generally forced into close quarters all the time. You had to get used to each other fairly quickly. The only trolls you consider yourself even remotely close to are the ones you knew intimately before this plan: Sollux, Gamzee, and… Terezi. All three of them, you'd throw yourself in front of danger for in a heartbeat, for various reasons. They're who you consider your friends, your lifelines on this dumbfuck planet filled with humans.

Absently you tune yourself back into the conversation they were having, idly aware that you'd been zoning for the better part of ten minutes. Not that anyone was complaining; they all knew you well enough by then. The first thing you hear intrigues you the way petty school fights intrigue you: With disdainful irritation but also amused fascination.

"-and then, Roxy thaid that a new transthfer sthudent was coming in today. And ith probably gonna be in TZ and KK'th clath."

At that, predictably, all eyes turn to you, none of the gazes flinching away when you narrow your own back challengingly.

"Oh joy, yet another annoying thin skinned, immature wriggler pretending to be grown to share oxygen with and pretend like their very existence doesn't make me want to eviscerate myself with a rusted eating utensil! I'm fucking _quivering_ with glee."

You roll your eyes as your finish your mini rant, only half shouting because fuck it, you're tired and it's half-past the crack of dawn. Not even you have an abundance of energy for endless rage and disgust at the world overall when you haven't even finished your first cup of coffee. Of course, not that you won't try your damned hardest, you have a reputation to uphold.

"Jethuth KK, take a chill pill," Sollux gripes again, and you somehow manage to refrain from tipping your piping hot coffee into his dumb face, if only because you need the liquid slice of heaven to get through the day. You do flip him quite the magnificent bird though, and tell him how stupid his lisp sounds. Naturally, he ignores you and keeps going. "It'th gotta be a pretty sthpethul kid though. Thith school ithn't exactly like normal oneth, tho transferring in after a month ith kinda weird."

You nod despite yourself, watching the other trolls do the same, but find yourself uncaring. It was probably just another rich brat anyways. From what you'd seen about the campus, most of the kids there were either from incredibly influential and wealthy families, aka the Strider-Lalondes, or extremely intelligent… and probably wealthy, like the Crocker-English-Harleys. It was a school where many people wanted their fingers dipped after all, what with it being the first school to actively contain both trolls and humans.

The two species had been coexisting peacefully for quite some time after the initial warring between aliens hadn't been entirely productive to the continued existence of either cultures. But the peace treaty had been in place many sweeps before he'd been born so none of that had really mattered growing up. It had only started to matter when their respective leaders had decided on this stupid plan of integrating the youths of both their species at an earlier age.

Already, humans and trolls worked side by side or in partnership, making both worlds thrive greatly, but usually it wasn't until early adulthood that any real interaction between the species happened, unless the older generation already had formed established connections which then passed on to their wrigglers. But this was the first time that the younger generation was being so forcefully mingled.

An entire new school had been built to commemorate the occasion, a giant and sprawling expanse of elegant buildings and dorms, designed to house a large force of rowdy kids. It was a combined highschool and college unit, for kids the age of fifteen to twenty-four. And you hated it.

Every day you were surrounded by screaming fuckwits trying to get closer to you for political reasons you didn't give twelve kinds of fucks about, and wishing you were anywhere else. After the first two weeks of absolute zero-tolerance rage and spiteful burns so vicious, even you were surprised some of them hadn't melted under your flaming vitriol, most of them had learned to leave you the fuck alone. Keyword here: Most.

Jade Harley didn't seem to give a care in the world at your heated word vomits on what a pitiful (in the most platonic of ways), useless sack of saggy mammary glands she was. Every day she would inevitably jump on your back, causing you both to crash in an undignified heap on the floor, with you screaming up a storm and her breathless laughter creating a ruckus in the hallway. And then she'd drag you to lunch against your wishes with the rest of the trolls in tow.

Which might have been tolerable if it wasn't for the very bane of your existence.

Dave fucking Strider.

Dave Strider was the very definition of the douchebag, Mr. Popular that popped up in all your earth romance movies. He was blond, tall, so fucking attractive you wanted to claw his face off and staple it like a poster to your respite block walls, and such a nooksucking bulgewad, you wandered how he even continued to co-exist with himself peacefully without offing himself in a fit of absolute self-disgust.

He also absolutely loved to piss you off. From day one, when you'd first seen his stupid smirk, behind those equally stupid shades, you'd known he'd probably been born for the sole purpose of causing you to combust in a fit of righteous, explosive hatred. Again, platonic. (Probably.)

Every time you saw him, your chest felt tight, your skin automatically flushed, and you were filled to the brim with the most heated of feelings that you were ashamed of yourself. Ashamed because it was almost something you could equate to a kissmesitude, if you didn't know just how ludicrous and atrocious the very idea was. No matter how he looked, the day you started thinking about Dave Strider in a sexual manner was the day you checked yourself in an establishment for the mentally unsound and let human therapists prod at your obviously decayed think pan.

Eventually, the first warning bell rang, and all of you got up to shuffle towards your respective classes, tiredly waving at each other to enjoy the day. As primarily nocturnal creatures, you were all having trouble adjusting to waking up as the sun rose, quite literally. Just another custom to hate humans for, really.

You practically drag your feet behind Terezi as she actually drags your body down the halls to your class, mowing down anyone who dared get in her way, and whacking anybody who didn't move fast enough with her guide stick. You don't even know why she still had it out when she clearly didn't need it, but who were you to question her strange life choices. You could barely keep up with your own.

The door to the classroom slides open right as Terezi gleefully swings you in front of her, causing you to smack into something solid and warm that smelled so heavenly you actually find yourself inhaling deeply. Well, until the solid mass rumbles in a familiar smug chuckle and you launch yourself backwards with a look akin to horror dawning on your features. No. Fuck no.

But yeah, because this is you, it obviously is.

Strider is looking down at you from behind his dumb aviators, that same infuriating smirk that both at once sets you off in a apoplectic fit and causes your knees to feel weak pasted on his aggravatingly attractive face. His lips part, and you like to pretend you weren't staring at them. Before he can say anything though, you're holding up a hand in the universal sign for stop, your own face gash opening at the speed of light to beat him in the verbal race.

"As _riveting_ as I'm sure whatever mundane drivel your planning on spouting is going to be, I'm going to have to take a rain check on that Strider, because believe it or not, I actually DO NOT HAVE TIME to stand around chatting with you. And I know it's hard to comprehend with your little primitive pea-sized think pan, but you're actually not that high up on my list of priorities, so kindly move your pasty waste chute out of my way and let me get to my fucking desk so I can learn absolutely fuck all that will be important to my future and forget you even exist."

You're panting very slightly by the end of your sudden tirade, Terezi is cackling from somewhere behind you, and of course, Strider has made zero efforts to even shift his molecules in the slightest. Your fists itch to pummel his face into a bloody pulp, but you settle for shaking them in rage at your side.

"G'morning to ya too, Nubs," he drawls, stupid Texan accent grating at your delicate eardrums in a way makes you suck in a sharp, unnoticeable gasp for conflicting reasons. "Got yer panties in a bunch today too, bro? You should try rubbing one out before class, I guarantee it'll loosen that stick from your ass. Brush the cobwebs off yer bucket, ya know?"

You can actually time the speed of your blush as it shoots across your face to the very tips of your ears. Zero-point-zero-five seconds.

All you can do is splutter indignantly as Terezi practically dies behind you, and you almost wish she would choke on her laughter. Dave finally makes to get out of your way, apparently satisfied with turning you into a speechless, blushing mess in front of him. Normally you'd just let him go, seething with rage as you think of all the nastiest thing you can spit at his face the next time you see him. For some reason, today you're in a really vindictive mood. So instead of just shoving past him, you growl lowly in the back of your throat and stomp as hard as you can on his foot.

The pained yelp he lets out is music to your hearing canals, and you finish off your spiteful combo by shoving his already unbalanced body into the door frame and flipping him the bird (your second of the day, boy are you on a roll). By the time you've gotten to your seat, he's recovered and glaring at you from the doorway, and you manage to arrange your features into the sweetest fucking smile you can muster. Terezi settles into her seat a few desks over from you and shoots a smug, knowing smirk in the general vicinity of your area. She mouths something at you that has you throwing one of your pens at her. '_Pitch bitch_.'

Fuck her, no you're not. You're not pitch anything to do with Dave Strider, god damn it.

Five minutes later and he's back again, right before your teacher struts into the room looking almost as cranky as you felt. "Alright brats, settle down, so I can take role."

Three tedious minutes later, which you spend the majority of playing a violent game of footsies under the table with Strider, because aha, yes, irony of all ironies, he's your fucking deskmate, and the call is done. Your teacher is shooting you both exasperated looks, but he's the one who sat you both together and wouldn't let you switch desks with any of the blond fucknut's slobbering, adoring fans. Probably thought they'd cause more of a commotion that you two did already, and you sure as hell wasn't letting him sit next to Terezi, with the outrageous flirting they already did whenever they were in each other's vicinity.

You won't even let yourself dwell on the stab of jealousy you feel over that, because again, you are not even sure who you're jealous of, and that's twelve-thousand percent all of not okay.

Just as you'd settled yourself down grouchily, ankle throbbing from the match-winning scoop kick Strider had delivered, earlier news all but forgotten, you were promptly reminded of the gossip.

"Did I say you could talk? No? Then shut your mouths. We've got a new addition to the class today." You roll your eyes at your teacher's melodramatics; he had nothing on your histrionics.

Whatever else you're thinking promptly vanishes from your mind, for once leaving you both physically and mentally speechless. Not very many things can achieve total silencing of both, but the boy in front of you certainly manages it.

He's tall and tan, that's the first thing you notice. His body is mouthwateringly lean and cut, and you can tell from the slight curves of his muscles, that he's extremely active, and probably accustomed to some form of manual labor. He moves with a kind of awkward grace, like he's not accustomed to the length of his limbs yet he can move them with extreme precision. It makes your abdomen feel tight. But what causes your mouth to instantly dry and your breath to hitch is when your eyes meet and you're swallowed up by the deepest blue you've ever seen on a human face. They're endless, and even from across the classroom, you can tell that from up close, you could probably count the different shades of blue that make up that oceanic gaze.

For some reason, he's staring back at you, and you don't even notice the rest of the class slowly gazing between the two of you. All you're aware of is him, as you take in the rest of his features. He's wearing these stupid, ironic nerdy square rim glasses that only seem to accentuate his sex appeal, and you can tell from his face that he smiles a lot. Kind of like he was just doing just then, flashing you slightly bucked teeth that practically made you melt in your chair from how stupidly charming they were. It was hormones, it had to be. There was no other reason for you to find him so inconceivably attractive without him having uttered a single word.

And it didn't even piss you off, like Strider's attractiveness. It just made you feel all fluttery and nervous in your stomach. And for a moment, you wonder if this is what those rom-coms meant about love at first sight, a phenomena you'd scathingly picked apart for its psychological nonsense. Yet here you were now, squirming in your seat like some dumb wriggler with attention deficiency. You took some comfort in the fact that he'd been staring back at you just as much.

Naturally, the moment had to be ruined by your desk neighbor.

The jostling of the desk as he abruptly stands up startles you more than it should, breaking your gaze from the boy in front. Instantly your nose scrunches in annoyance and you sear him with a raging glare. Well, you would, if he was even looking at you. Instead, his usual unflappable cool is gone, and from the side, you can just barely see that he's staring wide-eyed at the new kid. Something twists ominously in your gut and you flick your sight orbs back to the front. The feeling intensifies as you notice the kid is staring back just as wide-eyed.

No.

No, no, NO.

But yeah. Again, because your luck is so fucking deep in the negatives, of course this would happen. Dave's mouth moves and you grip your chair so tightly you know you've left deep grooves in the plastic.

"_John_…?"

He breathes it out in breathy disbelief, and your stomach flipflops inappropriately. You internally sock it and stomp hard on the sensation. So, the kid's name is John, huh? Not how you wanted to find out, but it sticks anyways.

There is a long enough pause that you begin to relax, thinking that maybe he'd gotten the wrong person. But then John is smiling, and it takes your fucking breathe away. It's like the fucking sun pile dived into the room and clotheslined you in the neck, and your chest is clenching in pain because that look is definitely not aimed at you.

"DAAAAAAAAVE!"

And suddenly your desk has tipped over and you're flailing for purchase on anything as John launches himself across the room to tackle Strider. You can tell the blond is prepared for the assault, just not apparently enough for the intensity, so although he manages to catch the tanned new kid, they go down in a tangle of limbs. Sideways. Right on top of you.

You let out a startled yelp as you're practically crushed under their two mammoth frames, Strider's hip and back grinding against your chest as John wriggles on the top of the pile, swiping you both side to side in his excitement.

"Duuuuuuuude, no fucking way! No. FUCKING. WAY. DAVE!"

And this would be totally fucking hilarious (and also heartbreaking) if you weren't underneath them both, trying and failing to crawl away. Finally, you've had enough when you accidentally inhale a tuft of blond locks.

Sputtering, you suck in as much air as you can to bolster the tirade of anger you feel bubbling at the back of your throat, and then you let loose.

"**STRIDER**! YOU AND YOUR FUCKING NOOKWHIFFING BOYTOY HAVE EXACTLY **THREE SECONDS** TO GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME BEFORE I **CASTRATE YOU BOTH** WITH THIS FUCKING PEN," you scream, vindictively making sure you're aiming directly at both their ears. You feel satisfied when they both flinch away from the sheer volume of your voice, John whacking his head against a leg of your overturned desk,

Both of them struggle to stand, allowing you to finally breathe, and you also wobble to your feet, legs feeling like a newborn calf as you try to forget how both of them smelled, and how fucking warm Dave was, and how much you just wanted to burrow yourself closer. Because that would be admitting some pretty fucked up things that you want absolutely no part of. You make sure to shoot them both the dirtiest looks before primly picking up your scattered belongings at righting your fallen chair.

"Fucking Christ, Vant-_ass_, no need t' break the sound barrier," Strider shoots at your turned back, and you valiantly fight down the urge to double bird him… and then lodge the fingers into his eye sockets.

The class is laughing, delighted at the free spectacle, and you know your cheeks are hot, but you are steadfastly ignoring the entire situation. Your teacher is definitely not amused, and is shooting John irritated looks. Good, someone else who's just as pissed as he is about the situation.

"Mr. Egbert, if you could refrain yourself from property damage at least on your first day of school…" he trails off meaningfully, and John has the good grace to look suitably embarrassed and chastised. Your lip quirks. Egbert. John Egbert. What a fucking dweeby name. Except it suited him, molded to his frame, and told you the essence of who he was. John Egbert. Who was apparently close with Dave Strider.

God damn you hated your life.

You feel a soft tug on the sleeve of your sweater, and you click your tongue irritably, tongue piercing clacking softly against your teeth. When you turn, you're sucked into deep blue again, and he's smiling at you sheepishly. "Er… sorry about that, uh…"

"Karkat," you mutter lamely. "Karkat Vantas." And you don't even know why.

He beams at you. Suddenly you're filled with perfect enlightenment.

"Yeah, sorry about that, Karkat. I just got overly excitement to see Dave again. I haven't seen him in like three years, and I didn't know he went here. So yeah, sorry for tackling you onto the floor."

He is smiling and bouncing on the balls of his feet, all adorable energy and sweet bashfulness, and it clenches inside of you, roundhouse kicking all the harsh words you'd usually spit. You don't know how to bolster yourself without your harsh façade, so you just shuffle in front of him awkwardly and shrug a shoulder. "Ah… don't worry about it. Just don't do it again. I thought I was gonna die squashed under Strider's fat, yet flat and bony ass."

He snorts out a laugh at the same time that Strider butts in unwantedly. "Hey! Y'should feel honored to be blessed and pressed with these fine buns, huns all around are up and fainting at the thought of my sweets mounds. I'm the fucking second coming of Jesus with how fine these bodacious cheeks are. No need to be jealous, Kitkat."

You shoot him an absolutely unimpressed look, abrasive attitude rushing back like preteens at a Beiber concert, and scoff. "What the fuck ever, Pasty. And stop with those fucking atrocious nicknames. They're DUMB, and so are you."

Thankfully, before you can get into it again, the teacher intervenes, sounding just as put upon as you felt. "Gentlemen, please." And Dave and you reluctantly sit back down in your now righted seats. John stands next to him awkwardly, unsure of what to do. That's when you realize that the only open seat is the on the left side of you, and a short groan escapes you. Just what you didn't need.

Seriously, what the fuck did your past self even do to generate this kind of karma? Whatever it was, you're hating yourself pretty hardcore for causing it.

"Your seat will be the one next to Mr. Vantas," he says prissily, and you seethe. John looks between you and the teacher, a small puzzled look on his face. '_Don't ask, don't ask, don't say it, don't ask_.' But he does anyways, and you sigh internally.

"_Vantas_? Are you two related?"

Kankri sighs as well, echoing your internal misery and both of you have an inappropriate, synchronized moment. "Unfortunately." And you leave it at that. You'd been steadfastly just calling him teacher in your head like some sort of dissociative ritual.

He's still looking bemused, but he shuffles to his seat and plonks down gracelessly, sprawling his limbs so they brush against yours as he and Dave exchange fist bumps over the top of your head. Already you feel tired, and you can hear Terezi still laughing at your from two rows over. Fuck your life, seriously.

"Welp, nice to meet you, neighbor," he says in an obnoxiously cheerful manner, lightly punching you in the shoulder with the same fist he tapped Strider with. "I'm John. John Egbert."

And all you and your infinitely lame brain can even manage to respond with is, "Yeah, yeah you are."

Class resumes normally now that the fuss is all over with, but you're not really paying attention at all. By the time the bell rings, you haven't absorbed a single thing, and you practically teleport out of the room with how fast you gather your things and leave.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are officially, unequivocally, and inexplicably **fucked**.

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First chapter, done. This will be a mini fic so... maybe three or so more chapters. I 'unno. I'll see how I go, since this is my first real fanfic. In any fandom. /tiny yell.  
Uh, fanart, podfics, spinoffs, etc are all welcome. Just credit me where credit is due. This is such a dumb thing omg. LAFF. Anything truly explicit will be over at AO3. Same username.


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